


Alpha to the Crown

by Anonymous



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alpha Prompto, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Heat Sex, Mention of possible mpreg but no actual mpreg shown, Multi, Omega Luna, Omega Noctis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-06 01:59:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18841333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: A fill for the kinkmeme: Niflheim’s terms for peace are clear: In order to ratify the treaty between Niflheim and Lucis, Noctis and Lunafreya are to be wed. The only problem is, they’re both omegas, which means unless they think fast and find a loophole, the line of Lucis will end with their childless marriage. Good thing Noct has found such a loophole in an obscure tradition, which will make Prompto, his best friend and an unmated alpha, the only man for the job...





	1. Chapter 1

A low, persistent beat thuds through the humid air, drowning out the roar of voices on the dance floor of The Claw and Thorn, the second best bar in Insomnia. No one can ever hear each other there—It’s the sort of place people go to for the music, not for the conversation—but tonight, the night of the Niflheim-Lucis treaty announcement, there’s so much _sound_ that it feels like a physical wall. People are laughing at nothing, cheering at every new song, and spilling their drinks all over the light-up dance floor. 

And in the middle of it all, bouncing on his heels as bodies push and sway around him like the tide, Prompto Argentum is trashed.

He’s aware of this in the same, distant way he registers the omega pressing up against his side, fingers digging into the mesh collar of Prompto’s crop top. The world is muffled like this, his senses dulled, the hand on his bicep nothing more than a passing breeze. He looks at the man grinding against him, who rubs Prompto’s upper arms, tracing the muscle he finds there. 

The floor pitches under him, and Prompto grabs the man’s shoulder to steady himself. 

“Alpha,” the man says—or it looks like he says it, anyways, which makes Prompto sputter out a laugh. But Prompto isn’t trying to control his scent anymore, not the way he usually does around Noct and the guys, and he remembers that this is what it used to be like; Omegas turning to look before he even entered the room, sizing him up, trying to figure out why a guy like Prompto gives the air of an alpha who can command a room if he has to.

He pushes the man aside, earning a wounded look and a curse, and staggers towards one of the back doors. He needs air. He’s needed air all day. It’s one thing, he thinks, as he navigates through the crowd, for the first guy he ever kissed to be the crown prince. It’s another thing when said prince is pretty much being ordered to marry the future queen of Tenebrae.

Who’s the whole reason they met in the first place. 

Fuck.

He trips up the steps out of the dance floor and leans against the railing. He needs another drink, but he knows the bartender’s gonna take one look at him and ban him from buying anything else. He sighs and swipes sweat-damp bangs from his eyes. 

A hand intercepts him, and Prompto looks up at a skinny omega with too much eyeliner and a shock of pink hair. They smile up at him, flashing perfect teeth, and, in a move bold enough to send Prompto reeling, wraps their arms around Prompto’s neck. 

“Hey,” the omega says. “You look like you need some help.”

“Nah, I’m good,” Prompto says, and gingerly unlatches them from his neck. “Just gotta go outside.”

“Lemme join you,” they say. 

“Prompto.”

Prompto turns automatically, drawn to the voice ringing out over the thump of the music. Noct stands just behind Prompto’s newest friend, wearing his usual faded black shirt and jeans, while Gladio, his Shield and beta, frowns at the crowd. The omega clinging to Prompto looks between them, flushes, and steps back.

“I’m so sorry,” they say. “I didn’t know you already had one.”

Noct opens his mouth. His cheeks flush pink, and Prompto has to resist the urge to touch him, to press a palm to his jaw and feel warmth under his fingers. 

“You weren’t picking up your phone,” Noct says, raising his voice. Prompto blinks. He pulls out his phone, and sees line after line of missed calls, all blurry and indistinct. “But I saw you post a selfie—”

“Let’s go outside,” Prompto shouts, and Gladio lifts a brow. Noct is blushing deeper, now, and he rubs the back of his neck and bobs his head. He takes a long, steadying breath before he turns aside. 

The noise isn’t much better out in the street. They have to go a few blocks down for the chaos of the crowd to subside, and Noct keeps glancing over at Prompto, lingering on his neck, his arms, the skin peeking through his mesh top. 

“How’s Luna?” Prompto asks. His voice is still too loud. It echoes off the closed shops on either side of the street, and Noct does that thing Prompto likes, where he sort of leans to the side and twitches his lips in a sheepish smile. “So she’s good? That’s good. I’m glad you’re good.”

“We’re not completely… good,” Noct says, and looks at Gladio again. “Uh. We might wanna go back to my place for this.”

“Not alone,” Gladio says, and Prompto can sense his presence already, a soft, earthy scent meant to dampen the peaked moods of an omega prince. He’s such a good Shield, Prompto thinks.

“You’re the best,” Prompto tells him.

“Thanks, Prompto.”

“But you’re gonna be shielding two omegas now,” Prompto says. “Yikes. I mean. I can’t even keep them off me in there. It’s like I’m you,” he adds. “You know. _Suave.”_ He staggers a little, and Gladio covers his eyes with his palm.

“Wrong way to the car, Prompto,” Noct says, taking Prompto’s arm. “We’ll talk more when we’re inside, okay?”

“But we just got _outside,_ ” Prompto says, but he’s overruled, as his feet don’t quite catch up with the rest of him, and Gladio has to take his other arm. 

He doesn’t remember the drive to Noct’s apartment. He vaguely recalls Gladio having to shove an arm between him and Noct, and the feel of Noct’s hair in his fingers, but it’s almost as though he dozes off for a second and he’s there, shoeless in Noct’s apartment, with Noct leaning against the couch while Gladio shoves a glass of water in Prompto’s hands.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” Prompto asks. 

“Oh my gods,” Gladio whispers, and turns away.

“Am I responsible for this?” Prompto asks him, pointing to the water. Noct snorts. 

“Just drink it, man. And sit down.”

“Bossy, bossy.” Prompto holds the glass to his lips and totters towards the couch. He nearly trips, spills some water down his front, decides no one noticed, and collapses next to Noct. “Hey, buddy.”

“Hey, Prompto.”

Prompto attempts to drink again. “Big day, huh? How’s Luna?”

Noct watches Prompto warily. “She’s. Um. She’s fine. Staying in the Citadel with Ravus. She was gonna come with, but I wanted to talk to you first.”

“Dude, I already know you’re getting married,” Prompto says, and pats Noct on the thigh. “You’re good.”

“That isn’t—You know why, right? Why the empire picked us, specifically?”

Prompto shrugs. “Because Luna’s cute,” he says. “And she’s, you know, a dog person. And you’re a dog person. You’re both dog people.”

Gladio wheezes somewhere behind him.

“Not… really what I was going for,” Noct says. “I mean we’re both omegas.”

“Which is so unfair,” Prompto says. “You’re both like, perfect.”

There’s a thud behind him. Prompto twists around to see Gladio with his face in his arms, leaning over the kitchen counter. His shoulders tremble, and Prompto narrows his eyes.

“Gladio? My dude?”

“’m fine,” Gladio chokes.

“This whole thing is unfair in another way,” Noct says, grabbing Prompto by the shoulder, “’cause this technically means we can’t have kids.”

Prompto nearly drops his drink. It’s a sobering thought—Without an heir, and with no omega to inherit the throne of Tenebrae after Luna, the lines of Lucis and Tenebrae would be pretty much done. It didn’t matter if Luna was sweet and clever and drop-dead gorgeous; Two omegas just couldn’t do it. 

“Maybe you can get inseminated?” Prompto asks. 

“Well, yeah,” Noct says, and flushes a deep, brilliant pink. “But, uh, the magic kind of, sticks better if there’s, you know, a bond. And Luna and I were talking, and we thought… uh.”

“Thought what?”

Noct twists in his seat. “Help me out here, big guy.”

“Gladio isn’t here anymore,” Gladio says, sinking behind the counter. Prompto isn’t sure if he’s laughing or sobbing. Noct scowls and turns back to Prompto.

“We thought,” Noct said, blushing to his neck, “that you might wanna. You know. Be a part of it.”

Prompto blinks.

“I’m not going away,” he says.

“Like our alpha,” Noct says, and Prompto’s brain, already struggling to keep up through the fog of too many vodka shots, surrenders entirely.

“I mean, you don’t have to,” Noct adds. “And Luna wants to, you know, talk to you some more and make sure we have like, rules and shit so you don’t feel pressured, but she, she likes you, and I like you, and we all… like you…”

“Oh, Astrals,” Gladio says, from behind the counter.

“It’s like a consort,” Noct says. “It’s an official title. Alpha to the Crown. You don’t have to, but…”

Prompto stands up, and immediately regrets it. 

“Gonna refill my water,” he announces to the apartment, before, with great ceremony, he takes one step into the air and collapses like a sack of bricks on Noct’s living room floor.


	2. Chapter 2

Prompto wakes in a pile of clouds. His head throbs with a pulse of its own, his mouth tastes like last week's breakfast, and his stomach jostles and sloshes every time he moves, but it's all happening in a bed so soft that Prompto feels weightless, adrift at sea. It's peaceful. Quiet. Smells nice, like Noct, honeysuckle and a cool sea breeze. He opens his eyes, searching for Noct's face among the clouds.

"Good morning," Ignis says.

Prompto squawks like a strangled seagull and thrashes in the blankets. Ignis looks at him, hands folded on an enormous book in his lap, unmoving as Prompto, tangled helplessly in the covers, goes tipping over one side of the bed. From where Prompto is dangling, his forehead an inch from the carpet, he can almost see Ignis smile.

"How are we feeling?" Ignis asks.

"Why are you here," Prompto groans. He clears his throat. "Why am I here?"

"A question for the ages," Ignis says. "But at present, I'm here because Noct is trying to _clean_ , and I prefer not to have my head bitten off at ten in the morning, thank you."

"Noct? Cleaning?" Prompto wriggles himself loose, folding onto the floor. "Why?"

"It came on him suddenly," Ignis says. "Like a rash. Princess Lunafreya may have something to do with it. You have, oh..." He looks down at his bare wrist. "An hour before she arrives."

Prompto struggles to his feet, and Ignis mutely hands him a potion. It's the worst hangover cure Noct ever discovered, but effective in a pinch, and Prompto shuffles into Noct's bathroom as he screws off the cap.

"I assume Noct told you his plan," Ignis says. His voice echoes in Noct's massive bathroom, boring into Prompto's skull. He leans on the door, arms crossed, and Prompto grunts, trying to piece together his fragmented thoughts from the night before. 

"Something about Luna," Prompto says. He takes a swig of the potion and shudders. "Gods. And... kids? They can't have kids? So they want..."

He stops, staring at his own pale, freckled face in the mirror.

"There it is," Ignis says, and steps up behind him to clap him on the back. "Get dressed and we'll talk. I took the liberty of taking some of your things from your apartment this morning—your key is on the table—“

"Iggy, what the fuck.”

"I'll be just outside," Ignis says, going back to his chair. He positions it next to the bathroom door, and Prompto squints at him. For an omega, Ignis is maddeningly hard to read.

"You're way too amused by this," he says.

"Oh, yes," Ignis says, and waves at the door. Prompto slams it shut.

He chokes the rest of the potion down and brushes his teeth with his fingers while Ignis taps a foot on the other side of the door.

"Noct's in a panic, you know," Ignis says, as Prompto searches for the mouthwash. "He thinks you'll say no. Will you?"

"No to what? To being..." Prompto takes a swig of mouthwash and gargles, "ampha sho fuh crrn?"

"...Yes. I think." Prompto spots his clothes folded neatly on the toilet and groans--of course Ignis found the only collared shirt in his closet. "Personally, I think it's a good choice."

"Gn?" Prompto grunts, still swishing out all traces of last night as he shoves on the shirt. 

"It's true. You're a neutral party—Lucian, but you don't hold public office, and you have no relation to anyone who does. You're a virgin, which helps with some of the more backwards council members—“

Prompto spits into the sink. "No one said I'm a—how'd you even—“

"And you're, well..." Ignis coughs. "The best choice, honestly. You're considerate. Kind. You don't throw your influence around like most young alphas do. Do you know what the emperor's ambassador suggested, when Noct said an alpha to the crown could be appointed? Ravus."

"Ravus and Noct?" Prompto stops in the middle of pulling up his pants. "Oh my gods. They'd kill each other."

"Exactly."

"And that's like, five different kinds of creepy," he says, buttoning his pants. "Didn't they think about Luna in all this? What the hell?"

"My thoughts exactly," Ignis says. 

"Luna deserves way better than that," Prompto says. "They're acting like she's just, I don't know, some kind of, of doll they can throw around—“

"Prompto, your scent is a _little—_ "

"Like, did she have a say in this?" Prompto asks, flinging the door open. His hair's a mess, but he just finger combs it as he paces Noct's bedroom. "I mean, that'd fuck up everything—who would even!"

"It would be a good way to ensure that they never have children either way," Ignis says, covering his nose.

"You know what Luna needs?" Prompto says, backing out of the bedroom. "She needs, like, a spa day. A spa _week._ Just like, hot springs and massages and chocolate shaped like fat chocobos."

"That _does_ sound appealing," says a wry, unfamiliar voice behind him. Prompto turns slowly, and Princess Lunafreya Nox Fleuret smiles at him from the door, where she's handing a deeply amused Gladio her scarf.

Prompto always thought Luna was gorgeous in her rare press photos, but up close, she's something else entirely. She's wearing a blue dress with a print of dark blue foxes, crystals dangle from her ears, and her hair is braided around a headband with crystal spikes woven throughout, a reminder of the crown she's due to inherit. Prompto looks to Noct, who's wearing a suit and holding a garbage bag in both hands, and tries to surreptitiously smooth his bangs.

"Luna," Noct says. "You're early."

"Gladio tried to stall me at a cafe," Luna says, and Gladio shrugs, "but I felt guilty eating alone, so I may have, ah. Brought the cafe to you."

"Literally," Gladio says, raising an arm weighed down by plastic take-out bags. Prompto wonders if he should be bowing. He should probably bow. He tries for one, but Luna has already turned to Noct, and only Gladio gets to see it. He grins, and Prompto flips him off.

Noct shoots Prompto a frantic look, and Prompto rushes behind him to drag the bag out of his hands.

"Luna," Noct says again, like he hasn't had all day yesterday to get used to looking her in the eye. "Thanks for, uh. Stopping by."

Oh gods, Prompto can practically feel the awkwardness solidifying in the air. He throws the bag in a corner—Ignis lets out a choked sound by the bedroom—and slings an arm around Noct's shoulder.

"Come on, buddy," he says, as though he isn't terrified himself, and adds just a touch of command to his voice, just enough to push through the fear gripping Noct. "She's your fiancé. Say _Hello, my radiant queen._ " He speaks out of the corner of his mouth, making Noct bow. " _We’re not worthy!_ "

Noct sputters and pushes at Prompto, but he's finally smiling, and Luna's covering her mouth with a hand. Prompto grabs Noct's hand and extends it forward, and Noct shoves him with a shoulder. 

"You're gonna be polite if it kills you, dude," Prompto says.

"I know how to shake hands!" Noct cries, and they both fall silent, mid-grapple, as Luna lets out a sudden snort of laughter.

"Oh my gods," she whispers. "I'm sorry. Give me a moment to compose myself."

" _We're_ not composed," Prompto points out, and Luna looks at them, with Noct frozen halfway through trying to hook Prompto's leg out from under him, and Prompto holding Noct's hand in both of his, and laughs.

"I can't believe this," Prompto hears Ignis whisper to Gladio, as Luna strides over with her arms out, catching Prompto up in a warm embrace. 

"It's the Argentum Effect," Gladio says. "Less than five minutes, I told you."

"Fine," Ignis says, and digs in his pocket. Prompto just sees him shove a handful of bills in Gladio's hand as Luna releases Prompto to kiss Noct on the cheek.

Breakfast is amazing. Sure, they all kind of straighten their shoulders when Luna sits on Noct's couch like a queen from the fifth century, and Prompto's pretty sure he's never seen anyone eat an egg sandwich elegantly in his life, but there aren't any awkward silences, and no one mentions the elephant in the corner—or the alpha, Prompto supposes. It's just... nice, with Luna constantly leaning in whenever someone speaks, and Noct blushing every time she turns his way.

"They're so cute," Prompto whispers to Ignis, and Ignis sighs and pats his shoulder.

"Noct showed me some of your recent photos," Luna says, and Ignis smiles sidelong as heat rushes to Prompto's cheeks. "I'd love to have a photoshoot sometime. You hear about people having engagement photos, but I never thought..." Her voice trails off, and she smiles brightly. "Well, it wouldn't seem right to spend time on something frivolous."

Prompto leans forward without thinking, and holds out his hands. Luna blinks and rests a hand on his palm. "You're totally getting all the photos you ever want," he says. 

Luna's lips part slightly, and Gladio clears his throat. Prompto realizes, a little too late, that he's radiating his own, uncomfortably _protective_ scent, and pulls back. "Um."

"That would be nice," Luna says. Ignis fans the air. 

"We can take some today," Noct blurts out. "We don't need to be back at the Citadel for a few hours, right? And the wisteria's still blooming in the park..."

"May we?" Luna asks. "I've wanted to see your gardens since I arrived."

"Well, now we have to," Gladio says, and gets to his feet. "Come on, lovebirds."

They have to stop by Prompto's house for his camera, which means Luna trails after him, peeking through the front door while Prompto scrambles for his camera bag. He shows her how to work the zoom function as they drive to the park, and she takes a blurry selfie of the three of them jammed in the back of the car, smiling uncertainly.

The wisteria are still in full bloom, thanks to a late spring, and they walk through a tunnel of violet blossoms on the way to the main park. Luna is entranced--apparently, according to her, whoever designed the gardens made it in the shape of some ancient holy symbol, which was actually used by heretics in the first century.

"Oh no," Ignis says, as Gladio leaps in like a puppy at someone else's shoes. Prompto's lost in seconds—He didn't really pay enough attention in his art history classes—but Luna and Gladio seem happy enough, even if they _are_ arguing over the placement of a naked statue in the rose maze. 

Prompto takes a picture of Luna pointing at a pillar shaped like the Infernian, with Noct gazing fondly at her from a few feet away. 

"I'll call it, _Baby, Hold My Flower_ ," Prompto says, showing it to Ignis. Ignis looks at Gladio's outraged expression in the photo and adjusts his glasses.

"I'll take two copies," he says, and saunters off, humming under his breath. 

Luna ropes Prompto into joining her and Noct on one of the barely-used canoes, and Noct, who can, in fact, throw a broadsword bigger than Gladio fifteen feet, jumps at the chance to grab an oar. Prompto grabs the other one, and Gladio and Ignis curse and mutter to themselves as they hurry to catch up.

Prompto takes a picture of Luna looking out over the water, one hand on the edge of the canoe. She turns when she hears the click of the shutter, and her earrings glint in the sunlight.

"Now that we're alone," she says, as Noct eases his paddle out of the water, "I thought Noctis and I might ask you properly."

Prompto's veins turn to ice.

"Oh."

"Don't worry," Noct says. "We have time. But if you want this, so do we."

"Noctis always spoke so highly of you in his letters," Luna says. "And he's right. I know he's being very careful, but I want to warn you, Prompto." She takes his hands and looks directly into his eyes. "After what I've seen today, I'm determined to court you."

Prompto catches his breath at the same time Noct does. "Yeah?"

"Yes," Luna says, and, before Gladio and Ignis' rapidly approaching canoe can get to them, leans in and kisses Prompto lightly on the lips.

Prompto reaches up to touch her jaw. Her skin is soft, and the ends of her braid tickles his fingers.

"Godsdamnit, Gladio!"

The canoe rocks as the sound of an airhorn blares across the water, and Luna yelps as Noct, startled by the sound, goes pitching to the side.

"None of that!" Ignis shouts, holding the airhorn in front of him like a holy talisman. "Not before the wedding!"

"What the hell, Specs!" Noct shouts, but it's too late. His hand slips on the edge of the canoe, Luna goes sliding to the side, and Prompto only has enough presence of mind to fling his camera at Gladio before they all go over, crashing into the still surface of the pond.

*

Sneaking a drenched princess into the Tenebraean embassy is pretty much impossible with half the city on alert, and the paparazzis catch them just outside the door. Noct throws a towel over Luna, who lets out a muffled, _oh, really,_ and they hustle her inside, where a wide-eyed Prince Ravus is running down the hall. He has lighter hair than Luna and towers a good foot over Prompto, but it's disconcerting to see Ravus twist such a familiar face into a scowl at the sight of Prompto, still damp in clothes he'd swiped from Noct's armiger. The air thickens with the scent of disgruntled alpha, and Prompto sighs.

He's used to this, really. Every time an alpha approaches Noct's group, they always have to try and engage in a convoluted pissing contest, trying to goad him into a fight. Prompto pushes down the familiar irritation, muting his own scent, and holds out a hand.

"Hey," he says. "I'm Prompto. We might've dumped your sister in the pond."

Ravus gives his hand a disdainful look. His upper lip curls, and there's a faint rumbling in his throat, like the beginnings of a growl. Prompto forces a smile.

"I mean, I _can_ rip my shirt off and we can wrestle each other for dominance if you want," he says, "but I'm borrowing this shirt from Noct, so you'll have to pay for it."

"For gods' sakes, Ravus, I'm fine," Luna says, whipping off the towel. "Behave."

Ravus stiffens, and his gaze slides over Prompto as though he's carefully written him out of the known universe. "My apologies," he says.

"It's no big," Prompto says.

Gladio steps around Noct, pushing out a calming scent so thick that it feels like a pound of wool has been dumped over their heads. "Okay," he says. "We're all friends, here."

Noct shoots Prompto a disbelieving look, and Prompto has to bite his fist. Luna sighs loudly and breezes past Ravus. There's a frantic thump of paws and excitable barking as two dogs push through a door down the hall, tails whipping the air. 

"Tiny!" Prompto cries, and the white dog with a familiar green bandanna perks up, tongue lolling. She bounds towards him, and Prompto gets to one knee to furiously scratch her ruff. 

"Oh, who's a good girl?" he asks, ignoring Ravus completely. "Who is she? Is it you? It's you! You're the good girl!"

"I'm keeping him," Luna says from over Prompto's head. Noct makes a strangled sound, and Tiny barks, propping her paws on Prompto's knee to lick his face.

 

There's more to being Alpha to the Crown than even Noct knows. When Luna is clean and dressed in a white cotton gown with gold embroidery, looking like she'd never laid eyes on a pond in her life, Prompto is sat down at a wide table with his friends on one side and the king on the other. The ambassador from Niflheim, an older man with blond hair and cold blue eyes, stares openly at Prompto in unnerving silence, and only gives Luna and Noct a cursory nod. Prompto is given a stack of papers thicker than his arm to pore through, and he flips it open, a little dazed, to peer down at the long list of alphas who served before him.

"We haven't brought back this particular tradition in over three hundred years," King Regis says, while Prompto examines a picture of an alpha's ceremonial robes. "But the law's in place, and there's certainly a precedent. You'll have to be elevated, of course—not quite royalty, but above the names in the Book of Gold."

"That kind of makes you more noble than Ignis and Gladio together," Noct whispers. Prompto sneaks a glance at Ignis, who shrugs. Gladio just leans back in his chair.

"Traditionally, you're granted land with your title—“

"Oh, uh." Prompto rubs the back of his neck. "I don't think..."

"But we don't exactly have the land to spare," Regis says, with a look towards the ambassador. "We can always name a park after you for the look of the thing."

For a moment, Prompto can almost swear that Regis is _smiling._ Then the look is gone as soon as it's appeared, and he's all business again.

"As for the matter of an heir," he says.

The room goes quiet.

"You have a year. If an heir is not forthcoming by that time, we'll have to explore other options. You'll also need to be involved in the raising of the child. Alphas to the Crown who tried to shirk their duty were commonly hanged by   
the neck until dead. There’s a curious case, of course, in the second century involving thumbscrews—“

"Dad," Noct says, as Prompto's stomach turns to lead. "First off, no. Second, he's not that kind of guy."

"Nevertheless," Regis says. There's a whole conversation in that one word, ranging from _If you hurt my son_ to _international peace depends on your dick,_ all the way to _I can shoot lightning from my hands at the slightest provocation._ Prompto nods in desperate understanding.

"I always wanted kids," he says, as his brain screams a horrified chant of, _Oh gods, I can't even raise succulents without killing them._ Noct scoots closer, and Prompto takes a slow breath, letting his scent calm him. 

"I'm glad to hear it," Regis says. "Does the ambassador wish to raise any concerns?"

The ambassador touches his wrist, which is covered by a thin leather bracer, and gives Prompto a long, searching look.

"No," he says. "The emperor will find this alpha to be acceptable."

Prompto can hear Ignis shift in his seat. Something feels off about the ambassador, but then again, it could just be that he's a Niff. Or maybe, Prompto realizes, as they all stand and bow to the king, it's because they're the only two alphas in the room. When he meets the ambassador's eyes a second time, just outside the door, the man steps to the side.

"I don't believe we've been properly introduced," he says, and bows, a hand over his heart. "I am the eighty-third of the Legion."

Prompto holds back a shiver. He's heard of the Legion. The Kingsglaive call them MTs on the field— _Empty,_ cloned alphas bound to the emperor, designated by nicknames and numbers, all with the emperor's bond-bite on their necks. Unnamed. Masked. Mated to no one. Empty. He's never heard of one who didn't wear the green mask of the Legion, and the glint in the ambassador's eyes makes him want to posture and growl like Ravus. He digs his nails into his palms and pushes it down.

"I look forward to the ceremony," the ambassador says, straightening at last. "I'm sure you'll do your country proud."

"Yeah," Prompto says, backing into Gladio in his rush to escape. "Thanks."

"Our resident MT," Gladio mutters, as the man strides off down the hall. "I swear, it's like being bonded to the emperor fucks with their heads."

"It's actually rather sad," Luna says. "They're always so desperate to please him."

There's an uncomfortable silence at that. After all, Luna's spent half her life surrounded by imperial alphas, a captive in her own home. Prompto thinks of how her face lit up in the gardens, how quick she was to laugh, and drums his hands on his thighs.

"Well," he says. "I guess I'll have to get a suit for the wedding, huh?"

Noct stares. "You're sure?" he asks. He grabs Prompto by the arm, and Gladio grunts as they both bump into him. "I mean, with everything?"

"Just call me alpha," Prompto says, and Noct cuffs him lightly on the side of the head.

"Fucking dork," he says, and kisses Prompto, holding his head in both hands. The kiss is open-mouthed and needy, and Noct presses himself into Prompto, who goes reeling into Gladio, who lifts Prompto bodily into the air.

"I _will_ get a spray bottle," Ignis warns, as Prompto hangs limp in Gladio's arms. "Honestly, Noct. I saw _tongue._ "

"Then don't look!"

"Your father's on the other side of the door!"

"Welcome to Lucis," Prompto says to Luna, as Gladio sets him down. "Land of the nerds."

"I resent that!" Ignis snaps. "You try being tasked with preserving your best friend's _imaginary purity._ "

"I don't think I can," Prompto says. "I mean, my job's pretty much the opposite."

"Nice," Noct says. They high-five, and Ignis covers his face with both hands. "Come on, Specs. We'll be good."

Ignis' hands slide down his face. "I wish that were true," he says, and Prompto leans over to pat him on the shoulder.

"Yeah, I know," he says. "You're doomed."


	3. Chapter 3

"We're totally doomed," Prompto whispers, as the first quavering notes of a harp ring through the throne room. The sound of violins float down from the balconies, and the crowd before them whispers in a soft susurrus, turning to face the open doors.

Lunafreya Nox Fleuret steps onto the deep blue carpet at the end of the hall, and Noct's red, anxious face is broadcast to every television in three countries. 

Luna's wedding gown is a deep blue satin that flares at her knees, with sheer black train spilling down her back and along the floor, glittering with diamonds in the shape of constellations. It's as though she's bringing the night sky with her, passing silently among the crowd, and from his spot at the dais, Prompto can see the silvery crown in her hair, curved in the shape of a crescent moon.

Noct clasps his hands behind his back, the gold piping of his cloak gleaming in the light, and Prompto adjusts his own pitch black suit as the music swells. Gladio and Ignis are standing off to one side, Ravus and the Niff ambassador on the other, and above them all, King Regis sits on his throne, choking down tears.

"Easy, Noct," Prompto whispers, Noct's hands are shaking, and his eyes are overbright. "You can do this."

"I'm gonna cry all over her," Noct whispers, just as the microphone drops down from the wedding arch, amplifying his voice throughout the room. " _Shit._ "

 _Shit,_ hisses the echo, rocketing off the domed ceiling. _Shit._

Ignis covers his mouth with a hand. His shoulders are shaking with suppressed laughter, and Gladio gives him a scandalized look, which only makes it worse. He bows slightly, tears pricking the corners of his eyes, and gasps for air.

 _We broke him,_ Prompto thinks, just before Luna ascends the dais and takes Noct's hands in hers.

"Dearly beloved," Regis says, over the soft, hitching sounds of Ignis falling into hysterics. "We are gathered here today..."

Noct _does_ end up crying through his vows, in the end. Still, it's sort of endearing, and the crowd seems to think so, too, because Prompto can definitely hear more than one stifled sob when it's finally over, and Prompto shakily slips the wedding bands on Noct and Luna's fingers. He has his own badge of office, now, a gold armband that fits just over his left bicep, and he tries not to stare at it as he, Luna, and Noct walk back down the aisle and through the open doors of the Citadel.

The crowd roars. Confetti falls from almost every window in the city, balloons are tethered to lamps and streetlights, and a trio of royal chocobos wait for them, decked out in black and blue, prepared for their official trek down Main Street. Noct twitches his cape back just enough to reach for Prompto's hand. He takes it, and Luna glances back at them before grasping his other hand, squeezing tight before she pulls them all down the steps behind her.

 

"I will never dance again," Luna says, sprawled on the chaise lounge of the royal honeymoon suite, the crumpled expanse of her gown folding up around her. Noct sits on the other side of the chaise, rubbing her feet. "I may never _walk_ , in fact."

"Oh, hey," Prompto says, peering into the bathroom. "There's a jacuzzi in here. And champagne. And chocolate-covered strawberries."

Luna actually _whines._

"Want us to carry you there?" Noct asks, with a bemused smile. Luna bats his chest with a foot. 

"I can do it," Prompto says. He walks over to Luna, bends down, and lifts her in his arms. She covers her mouth, but Prompto catches the slightest change to her scent, and she keeps staring at his arms, watching his muscles flex as he carries her to the jacuzzi. Then he sets her gently inside, where her skirt puffs up completely, almost consuming her.

"You monster!" she cries, laughing as she tries to dig her way out of the tub. "It's empty!"

"Looks full of princess to me," Prompto says, and yelps as she drags him in by the collar, his face mashed to her chest.

"Huh," Noct says from the doorway. Prompto squirms in Luna's hold, and Noct's boots click across the tile. Then a shadow passes over them both, and Prompto looks up to find Noct's hand on the faucet.

He and Luna nearly upend the entire tray of strawberries in their frantic escape. Noct grins as he turns on the tap, and Luna collapses on the floor in her beautiful wedding gown and laughs until she cries.

The steam that rises from the jacuzzi thickens the air, and Prompto breathes in the scent of them. Noct's been taking heat blockers to hold off before the wedding, but his scent is in full force now, heavy and sweet, mingling with Luna's as the mirrors fog and the tile shines. He's not in heat, not yet, but he'll be there soon, and there's a hint to Luna's scent that suggests she's coming close.

"I'll need help with my dress," Luna says, and Prompto and Noct both glance at each other, unsure. Noct wins the unspoken contest, and kneels behind Luna to help untie her gown. Maybe it's the dim light that does it, but he seems softer, somehow, on his knees with his head bowed, and Prompto unbuttons his collar, watching his fingers fumble with the lacing of Luna's corset. When it falls free, Luna steps out of her gown, gloriously naked and yet outclassing both of them, and Noct stays on his knees, gazing up at her. She touches his jaw, and his lips part reflexively.

"You don't want the tub to overflow," she says, and walks past them both, stepping into the jacuzzi. Noct gives Prompto a pleading look.

 _Same, buddy,_ Prompto mouths, and heads over to help him up. Noct drags him down instead, and Prompto's back hits the tile as Noct kisses him, hands in his hair. Prompto holds his hips, guides him until he's straddling Prompto's lap, and finally pulls free when he hears the water stop running.

Luna watches them from the side of the jacuzzi, chin propped on both hands. "Don't mind me," she says, with a slow smile. 

"Sorry," Noct gasps, and starts pawing at his own suit, cursing when he can't quite manage the buttons. Prompto is about to help him out of it when Noct just rips his shirt open, gold buttons skittering across the tile. He lays there, helplessly aroused, as Noct stands to undo his belt.

"Oh, gods," Prompto says, and for the first time since this started, it finally hits him. "There are two of you."

"Poor Prompto," Luna says, but she doesn't sound all that mournful. "You should join me before the chocolate melts."

Noct is already shimmying out of his briefs, but Prompto takes his time, slowly unbuttoning his new suit. He folds it carefully as Noct joins Luna in the tub, and by the time he's bared at last, the two of them are feeding each other strawberries, pressed close under the bubbles. 

Prompto steps up to the tub, and Noct nearly chokes on Luna's chocolate-stained fingers.

"Oh," Luna says, and Prompto balks as their gazes lower. He covers his dick with one hand and hobbles into the tub.

"Feelin' kind of objectified here," he says. Noct snorts and swims over, straddling him again. Noct is already hard, and his erection just brushes against Prompto's as, with as much finesse as a behemoth on an ice rink, he tries to stick his tongue down Prompto's throat.

"Hnngh," Prompto says, and slides his hands up Noct's sides, trying to soothe him. Noct does go slower, but he starts grinding against Prompto, breaking free to pant against his shoulder.

"Wanted this for weeks," Noct says, digging his nails in Prompto's back. "Months."

"Years," Luna says, and she touches Noct's cheek, turning him her way. They kiss over Prompto's lap, and Luna's hand finds Prompto under the water and wraps around him, making him hold down a weak moan.

"You should claim him first," she says, and Noct's eyes go glassy with want. "It's only right."

"Right—right now?" Prompto asks. He wants to. He's wanted to since he and Noct made their first, stumbling attempts together, when Prompto was just his commoner friend and Noct didn't have a war to worry about and a treaty to ratify. Prompto had grazed his teeth over Noct's neck enough to know the taste of it, to dream of claiming him in the dark hours of the night, to hold his palm over his neck and force himself to push away.

This time, when Noct grabs Prompto and bares his neck, Prompto doesn't hold back. Luna strokes him as Prompto bites down, and Prompto shudders with his release, bent over Noct with his teeth lodged in his scent gland. Noct cries out, goes rigid in his arms, and finally takes a long, unsteady breath. He pants heavily when Prompto pulls back, and he touches his neck with reverence, pupils blown wide.

"Holy shit," he gasps. "Fuck."

"Yeah," Prompto manages. "Definitely."

"My turn," Luna says, and they both stare at her as she steps out of the tub like a fucking goddess from the sea, and Noct actually makes a faint whining sound in the back of his throat. They watch her for a minute, caught up in the rush of their new, fragile bond, before they scramble and slip out of the jacuzzi, sliding on wet tile in their rush to follow.

"Hey," Noct says, grabbing Prompto just before they stagger into the carpeted bedroom of the honeymoon suite. Luna is trying to climb the massive bed in what Prompto guesses is supposed to be a seductive manner, but the mattress is just a little too high for her, and she ends up slipping on rose petals. "Prompto. Do you know how to..."

"How to what?" Prompto asks.

Noctis gives him a look. They both turn to Luna, who's dragging herself into the bed by grabbing the curtains. Prompto doesn't need their new bond to know what Noct means, and he grimaces.

"I mean, my moms gave me a book."

They had. It was the single most embarrassing moment of Prompto's adult life, and it was titled _Tying the Knot: An Alpha's Guide to Conscientious Love-Making._ He'd refused to look at it for weeks, but turns out there's a whole chapter dedicated to cunnilingus, and, well. He likes what he likes. He just hopes the real thing is as straightforward as the diagrams.

"I got you, man," Noct says. Prompto places a hand on his shoulder and pulls what he hopes is a somber expression.

"Bro," he says, with feeling. Noct laughs and shoves him into the door.

The bed really _is_ slippery, with satin sheets and soft rose petals, and Prompto has to make a running leap for it, causing Luna to yelp and roll out of the way. There are petals sticking to her legs and back, and one is crushed in her long blonde hair, which lies in a tangle over her shoulders. Prompto huffs as Noct slams into him from the side, and they collapse together, Prompto bracing himself over Luna by one arm, Noct nuzzling into the crook of her neck. Luna reaches up to slide her fingers through Prompto's hair, and when she touches Noct's cheek with her free hand, her smile goes soft.

"My boys," she says, and Noct kisses her neck, right over the place where her mating mark should be. Prompto trembles—he figures it's selfish to be so eager, but with them both naked beneath him, kissing softly while Luna's hand digs in his hair and Noct traces Prompto's back, Prompto can't find a reason to be ashamed of it. He wants them both, wants to see them undone, and his knot, always slow to form, starts to swell at the base of his cock. Noct breaks free of Luna and lets Prompto sink down, running his lips along her jaw.

"This okay?" he asks, and Luna takes the back of his head, holding him to her neck. "Mmhn," he says, and feels her laugh as he claims her. 

The scent of slick sweetens the air, and Prompto's not sure if it's Luna, who parts her legs for him as he slides down the bed to worship her properly, or Noct, who grabs her breasts in both hands and kisses her like he's dying for it. Prompto hooks his arms under her thighs and licks a line up her pussy, and Luna makes a soft sound above him. He delves in, alternating patterns with his tongue, trying to figure out what makes her want to squeeze her knees together and moan, what makes her whisper curses into Noct's mouth. He flicks her clit with his tongue, forgets about breathing as she starts to pant and gasp, and hooks a finger in to work her clit while he brings her to an orgasm that makes her slam her legs together and arch off the bed. He pulls back after a moment of just lying there, his lips pressed to her, and runs his hands up her thighs.

"Damn," Noct says, staring at them both with the glazed, dreamy look of a full heat. "I need you here yesterday."

"Coming," Prompto says, and stops as Luna muffles a laugh.

" _Prompto,_ " Noct says, seemingly uninterested in the fact that Luna is giggling behind her hands. 

"I think he's the needy one," Prompto tells Luna, who grins as Noct practically drags him up the bed.

 

Their heats hit them in full sometime before dawn, which means Prompto wakes to Noct fucking Luna next to him. She's guiding him by the hips, controlling the speed of his thrusts, and Prompto just watches them for a while, languidly stroking his cock. They're sweet, really—Noct definitely wants it harder, Prompto can tell, but he's holding back for her, going deep and slow like she wants. She comes first, digging her nails in Noct's ass, and he follows her with a low groan. He glances at Prompto, and Luna, sated for now, waves him off.

"Took you long enough," Noct says to him, kissing Luna on the cheek before rolling onto his back. "Been ready for you for hours."

"He's exaggerating," Luna says, but Prompto can tell by the spike to Noct's scent that he's on edge, desperate for it. He kisses him just for the sake of it, just because he _can,_ now, and climbs over him.

" _Are_ you ready?" he asks, and Noct, already sinking back into the haze of his heat, rolls over, chanting up his hips. Okay. Okay, yeah, he's definitely been working himself open, Prompto thinks, and holds him up a little higher. Noct is on his hands and knees now, holding onto the headboard with one hand, and Prompto leans down to kiss his back as he lines himself up.

And misses.

"What the fuck, man," Noct moans.

"Sorry," Prompto says. Luna sits up, a hand laying over her cunt as Prompto slowly pushes in, taking care this time. Noct stiffens for a moment, then slowly relaxes, letting Prompto thrust forward. He goes easy, but Noct's a prince, with access to the kind of toys most omegas could never afford, and Prompto realizes, a little late, that he may have unintentionally become one of them. 

Not that he minds. He almost comes just from this alone—his knot swells, and he has to breathe in deep before he pulls back, making Noct groan and yank on the headboard. He doesn't bother going slow; He knows what Noct wants, and doubts he can manage a slower pace anyways, not with the way Noct is clenching around him. He slams Noct forward, and Noct curses and pushes back, grinding onto his cock.

"Please," Noct says. "Fuck, Prompto, you gotta move, Prompto—“

It's sloppy and frantic and more than a little too loud, but Prompto's knot is already pushing against Noct, and he doesn't even hesitate when Noct urges him to go harder, deeper. They both drop to the bed, Prompto hammering Noct into the mattress, and when his knot finally pushes in, he lets go with a low sound he didn't think he could make before. He keeps coming, lying over Noct as Noct shakes in the aftermath of his own orgasm, and gasps into Noct's hair.

Then Luna's at his side, kissing up the line of his neck, and Prompto wonders, between the two of them, if he'll actually make it out of the honeymoon in one piece.

 

Gladio meets Prompto at the door a few days later, when Prompto's pushing out a tray of empty dishes onto the cart in the hall. He's dressed in his official Shield uniform, smart and put-together, and gives Prompto a shit-eating grin as Prompto tries to cover the hickeys trailing up his neck.

"Don't bother," Gladio says. "There are too many of them."

"You got that right," Prompto says, and Gladio slaps him on the arm. "Their heats are pretty much over. Luna needs more chocolate. Like, a mountain of chocolate. I've never seen someone eat so many truffles in my life." He lowers his voice. "Noct's trying to teach her how to play Assassin's Creed right now."

"How's that going?"

"She's died like, fifteen times, and she keeps asking where the triangle button is."

"Oh yeah, I can only imagine what _this_ royal family's gonna be like," Gladio says, and hands Prompto a box wrapped in glossy black paper. "A gift from me and Iggy. We thought you'd need it."

"Aw, guys." Prompto lifts the lid off the box. The lid clatters to the ground, and Gladio takes a wary step back. "You asshole."

"Easy," Gladio says, holding up both hands. Prompto lunges for him, and he takes off down the hallway.

"Just wait," Prompto shouts, as Gladio's laugh echoes through the Citadel. "You're gonna be on babysitting duty the rest of your life!"

"What's that?" Luna asks, from inside the suite.

"Nothing," Prompto says. He ducks down to pick up the lid, and hastily covers the black ring in the middle of the box, complete with gold letters etched along the side.

 _Cock ring of the Lucii,_ he thinks, setting the box on the table. _Real clever._

"Prompto," Luna says. She turns from her seat on the couch, where she's wearing one of Prompto's shirts, bare legs tucked under her. "Come here." She holds an arm out, and Prompto smiles, climbing over the back of the couch. He settles between Noct and Luna, and Noct unconsciously leans into Prompto's side, head tilting on his shoulder. Prompto sighs. Soon, Luna and Noct will have to go back to preparing to run two countries in tandem, and Prompto will have to figure out his new, strange position in the court of Lucis. But for right now, with Luna on one arm and Noct leaning on the other, warm and comfortable in the morning light, Prompto knows where he belongs.


End file.
